


The Waters are Rough (But This is Ours)

by LovesFrogs



Series: Unrelated Irondad Drabbles [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Beware, Civil War Team Iron Man, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, GUYS THERE'S A TAG FOR THAT NOW, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Identity Reveal, Intern Peter Parker, Irondad, No Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, No Bashing, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Painkillers, Parent Tony Stark, Peter & Tony Big Bang, Peter Parker Calls Tony Stark "Dad", Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Peter calls Tony Dad, Secret Identity, Self-Indulgent, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Peter Parker, Sleepy Tony Stark, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, all fluff no plot, spiderson, there is more fluff coming, this is very soft, we stan aunt may
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-06 09:40:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18848452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovesFrogs/pseuds/LovesFrogs
Summary: Peter is stuck on the really strong Captain America meds, and possibly lets slip more than he would have liked to the mentor sitting at his bedside.No longer a oneshot!Peter and Tony continue to dance around each other, attempting to admit that they love each other despite the awkwardness. Adding the Avengers to the mix only complicates things further.(5 Times Peter and Tony admitted that they loved each other)





	1. Chapter 1

First there was nothing but darkness and warmth. As Peter rose through it he gradually became aware of a steady beeping noise. It was pretty annoying, actually, and Peter tried to shift away from it. In doing so, he realized that his limbs felt heavy and sluggish. A thin blanket was pulled up to his chest, but his arms were out in the air. Someone was holding his hand.

Peter managed to flop his head toward whoever was at his bedside, but his eyes remained stubbornly shut for several more minutes before he was able to pull them open. If he’d been aware enough to guess, he would have assumed that the mystery person was Aunt May, so Peter was vaguely surprised to find someone else there instead. His vision was a little fuzzy, but the man appeared to be dozing while sitting up. Peter knew him somehow. His brain was just having a bit of trouble telling him exactly where he knew him from at the moment. 

“‘Ncle… no… Miss’r… Miss’r,” Peter mumbled, trying to pull him closer to get a better look. All he managed was a weak squeeze.

The man’s head jerked up and intelligent brown eyes met his own. Coffee was brown, too, but Peter didn’t like that. Chocolate pudding was brown, maybe that was-- “Hey, kid,” the man said, interrupting Peter’s hazy thoughts. “That was quite a hit you took back there. How’re you feeling?”

Peter hummed and blinked as the words slowly filtered through his brain. “Think m’brain’s floatin’ away. Feels kin’a weird.” His tongue felt too big too, and his lips were clumsy. “Ha. Weeeeiiiirrrrrrrd,” he said to himself again, liking the feel of the word in his mouth. What other sounds would be fun to say? Peter leaned back and mouthed a few different words, trying to think of a good one. May? No… Juuuune. That was good. Mooouuuse was fun as well… A snort of laughter from the man made Peter jerk his head back around in the middle of contemplating purple. He’d forgotten someone was sitting there.

“Stark!” he suddenly remembered, feeling proud of himself. “You’re Miss’r Star’! What’re you doin’ here?” 

“That’s me. I’m just making sure you’re alright, Peter,” said Mr. Stark with a smile. “They’ve got you on the nice Captain America drugs and everything.”

Peter thought about that for a while. Hadn’t that guy been on the TV at school? “Miss’r Cap’n Rogemerica didn’t do any drugs,” he said. “Says’re bad f’r us on TV.”

“Did he now?” asked Mr. Stark. “Guess I must be mistaken then.”

Peter tried to nod, but his chin made it all the way down to his chest and just stayed there. His eyes remained half open, but Peter drifted for what felt like quite a long time as the world went out of focus around him. He thought he might have heard some voices, or a few people going in and out of the room, but the pressure holding his hand never let up and something told him he was safe here. He closed his eyes.

“You with me Pete?” asked a voice. There was a light squeeze on his hand. 

“Yeah, ‘m righ’ here,” said Peter, blinking hazily before contentedly closing his eyes again. “You lose me or somethin’? Miss’r Star’ll find me, don’ worry.”

“Mr. Stark will?” said the voice. 

“He’s m’favorite supe’hero,” Peter grinned. “Saved me fr’m a ferry ‘n a robo’, ‘n he’s just the… the goodest dad-guy pers’n, y’know?”

“Dad-guy peron?”

“Mm hmm,” Peter agreed. “Wish ‘e was mine but ’m jus’ some kid fr’m th’ street, so…”

“You wish he was your… your dad?” the voice was quieter now, and shaking just a little. Peter hummed in agreement. He wondered whether the voice was shaking from cold, and tried to lift his hand to check. Instead, another hand softly took his own and held it next to the other. The hands were very gentle. Peter wondered if he was fragile, or if they were.

“So what? You don’t think he’d want you?” The voice sounded a little upset, Peter noticed distantly.

“S’rry I know ‘s weird,” he said. “Like t’pretend though, so please don’ tell’m. It’d be m’barrassing an’ he’d run ‘way cause he hates ‘motions ‘n stuff.”

“I think you should talk to him about it,” the voice said. “He’d probably like to hear it.”

Peter wrinkled his nose. “Nah, I love’m. Don’ wan’ ‘im t’run ‘way fr’m me.”

Someone’s breath hitched. There was a long silence, and then one of the hands let go of his and tentatively ran through Peter’s hair. Peter leaned into it as much as he could and successfully lifted his own hand in order to catch it and hold it there. He smiled when he found an arm attached to the hand in his hair and proceeded to nuzzle his face into it happily. It smelled like fancy cologne and grease.

“You smell good, like Miss’r Dad,” he mumbled against an elbow. There was another long pause.

“That could be because I am him,” the voice said.

Peter dragged his eyes open as wide as he could. The arm he was clutching was covered in a faded sleeve with a grease stain or two, like something Mr. Stark would wear in the workshop. As Peter’s eyes travelled up, he caught sight of the glowing blue light that came from Mr. Stark’s chest, and then a fuzzy impression of the man’s fancy beard. His mentor was wide-eyed and smiling hugely.

“Hey Miss’r… Miss’r…” Peter was losing his train of thought. His eyes drooped shut again.

“You called me Dad,” the man whispered.

“‘Kay, Dad,” Peter whispered back, pulling the arm closer. “I’m keepin’ this, ‘kay?” He yawned and buried his face in it again.

“Go to sleep Peter.”

“Uh huh,” Peter said. He allowed himself to drift for a while, eventually sinking back into peaceful darkness.  
.  
.  
.  
Tony was trapped and in shock, but that was fine. Really. The kid… this kid…

He’d been down in the workshop when he got the call from Karen that Peter had been shot. He’d immediatley suited up and flown as fast has his thrusters could take him to the location she provided while she gave him a rundown on the situation. Peter had webbed up a mugger in the ally below, but he hadn’t seen the gun and the man had been quicker than expected. The bullet flew through Peter’s side and exited cleanly, but the boy would certainly need proper medical attention to prevent any infection as the wound healed.

It was a good thing he still had the formula to synthesize Steve’s pain medication because Peter was barely conscious by the time Tony got him to the compound. The doctors had been sworn to secrecy long ago, so Tony let them stitch up his kid before going to wait for him to wake up.

He wouldn’t have grabbed the kid’s hand, but all the doctors left and there was no one there to notice anyway. The kid would wake up far too high to even remember it, so Tony allowed himself to indulge just a little. He was dozing off by the time Peter squeezed his hand.

The kid was obviously completely out of it. It took him several minutes to even say Tony’s name, although Tony would be holding “Captain Rogermerica” over his head for the foreseeable future for sure.

Once the kid zoned back out, Tony alerted the doctors and a few came in to check Peter’s vitals and fuss over the IV for a minute before bustling out again. One woman smiled just a little when she caught sight of Tony holding the kid’s hand. He glared at her until she left the room, but he didn’t bother to let go.

“You still with me, Pete?” he said as soon as the door was finally shut. 

“Yeah, ‘m righ’ here,” said Peter. For a second Tony thought his eyes would focus again, but instead his kid just blinked and seemed to retreat into a half-doze. “You lose me or somethin’? Miss’r Star’ll find me, don’ worry.”

The kid clearly had no idea who he was talking to. “Mr. Stark will?” Tony said. He didn’t want to take advantage, but there were just so many opportunities depending on what Peter said here. He hoped it was something harmlessly embarrassing.

Peter’s face split into one of the biggest smiles Tony had ever seen. “He’s m’favorite supe’hero,” he said. Tony felt a smile tug at his own lips. Even after all this time, Peter still thought that? “Saved me fr’m a ferry ‘n a robo’, ‘n he’s just the… the goodest dad-guy pers’n, y’know?”

Tony’s world paused. Did he just…? “Dad-guy peron?” he squeaked.

“Mm hmm,” Peter agreed, casually turning Tony’s world on its head. “Wish ‘e was mine but ’m jus’ some kid fr’m th’ street, so…”

What did that mean? Tony felt like a dart had gone right through his chest, shortening his breath and causing his heart to swell painfully. It had to be the drugs talking. There was no way the kid could possibly mean what Tony thought he meant. “You wish he was your… your dad?” he asked softly, just to be sure. His voice came out much less steady than he would have liked.

Peter hummed in agreement again, and tried to lift the hand with the IV in it. No way he was supposed to do that, and the doctors would probably try to kick Tony out if the kid got hurt on his watch. He took Peter’s waving hand in his own free one and settled them together on top of the bed, careful of Peter’s still-injured side and not wanting him to feel trapped. It felt strangely intimate, sitting there with Peter’s clean hands held lightly in his own scarred, callused ones.

“So what? You don’t think he’d want you?” Tony said. If that was the only thing stopping Peter from admitting this he was going to go punch something. He suddenly wished that Peter was lucid, so they could either talk this out or pretend it hadn’t happened. If nothing else then he’d know if the kid was serious or just saying whatever came to mind.

“S’rry I know ‘s weird,” said Peter. “Like t’pretend though, so please don’ tell’m. It’d be m’barrassing an’ he’d run ‘way cause he hates ‘motions ‘n stuff.”

Tony cringed. He’d never wanted Peter to get close enough for that to be a problem, but apparently Peter was more perceptive than he’d thought. The worst part was that the kid was probably right. If he’d just come to Tony with this on a normal day he would have dealt with it horribly and locked himself away from everyone for days afterward while he tried to work his emotions away. Tony didn’t do well when people just sprang feelings on him like that. Still, something about this kid made Tony want the best for him. “I think you should talk to him about it. He’d probably like to hear it,” he told Peter. At least now he had a warning for if the kid ever came out with it on his own.

Peter wrinkled his nose. “Nah, I love’m. Don’ wan’ ‘im t’run ‘way fr’m me.”

Tony sucked in a breath, staring at Peter’s peaceful face. He… loved him? Tony’d hardly done anything, just given him some advice and a suit and yelled at him for getting hurt. Sure they’d spent time together down in the workshop and Tony really, maybe, possibly was thinking about admitting to himself that he might care a little too much about Peter, but he’d never expected the kid to return anything but naive hero worship. To be honest, he assumed he’d be replaced as soon as Steve Rogers was back in the picture, whenever that happened.

Slowly, carefully, Tony leaned forward. He set Peter’s hand down and gently reached out, hesitated, and then brushed his hand through Peter’s messy hair. To his delight, the kid seemed more than happy with him, even grabbing his arm and nuzzling his face into Tony’s sleeve.

“You smell good,” the kid said sleepily, “like Miss’r Dad.” 

Whatever heart Tony had left in his chest melted. Something was going on with his face, too, and he couldn’t seem to move his mouth out of the wide smile that had spread across it. There was so much he could say to that, from mocking to painfully sincere, but all he needed to know was how Peter would feel when he knew Tony had heard this. “That could be because I am him,” he told the kid. Despite his nerves, the smile stayed.

Peter’s eyes opened, travelling up from his hand to his face, but his grip on Tony’s arm had slackened. He was probably only a few minutes from falling asleep again.

“Hey Miss’r… Miss’r…” he said, shutting his eyes again. Tony couldn’t stop looking at him, this kid who loved him for some reason, even after getting to know him.

The whisper left his mouth without permission, before he had time to think about it. He wasn’t even talking to Peter, not really, just trying to convince himself of what he had heard. “You called me Dad.”

“‘Kay, Dad,” Peter whispered back, curling up with Tony’s arm. Tony’s heart might have physically skipped a beat. “I’m keepin’ this, ‘kay?” Peter yawned, and buried his face in the arm again.

“Go to sleep Peter,” said Tony fondly. He could adjust his position and let Peter hold onto him for as long as he wanted.

His kid made a noise of acknowledgment and fell asleep there, with Tony grinning beside him for an embarrassingly long time.


	2. Chapter 2

Things were odd after Peter got out of the medbay. He couldn’t put his finger on what, but ever since he’d been shot Mr. Stark had looked at him just the smallest bit differently. He’d become more open to the occasional high five or fist bump, too. One time Peter got a migraine while they were working on some new specs, and Mr. Stark sat with him while he fell asleep to Moana. Nodding of on Mr. Stark’s shoulder had been so surreal that Peter often wondered if he’d just dreamed that part.

Still, nothing major changed until several weeks later, when Mr. Stark confronted him in the workshop. He’d been dancing around something all evening, and it had gotten to the point where Peter couldn’t wait much longer for him to spit it out. His mentor’s skittishness was making him jumpy and nervous, and he also had to go home at some point tonight. 

“Listen, Kid, I have to tell you something,” Mr. Stark finally said with five minutes to spare, tugging at his sleeves.

“Shoot,” said Peter. Was Mr. Stark going to kick him out? But Peter hadn’t done anything to make him mad in at least a week. Maybe he was just going out of the country or moving away or trying to figure out if Peter knew that Aunt May and Happy had been going on dates while he was hanging out at the tower? (Actually that last one might be the most likely, now that he thought about it.)

Mr. Stark took a deep breath and let it out, clasping his hands behind his back. “The Avengers are coming back to the tower.”

There was a ringing three seconds of silence.

“You mean,” said Peter slowly, “like Captain America and Scarlet Witch and all those guys? Their pardons went through and they’re staying here?”

“Right,” Mr. Stark said. “And of course you’re still welcome here, but you have to decide whether they can know your identity, and if not we have to figure out how to hide you from them or stop them from guessing that you’re Spider-Man.” He said this all very quickly and unenthusiastically, as if he was bracing himself for Peter to… do something.

“Why?” he asked, dumfounded. 

“Why would you want to keep your identity from them?” Mr. Stark filled in. “I don’t know. It’s just if you have any reservations about them knowing… but if you want to hang out with them or whatever then you might be better off just telling them--”

“No,” said Peter. “That’s not what I--Why the heck are you letting them back into your _house?_ After what they did to you? Send them somewhere across the country if you can swing it! Are you crazy?”

Mr. Stark stared at him. “What are you talking about, Pete? How did-- what makes you think I shouldn’t--”

“I was there in Germany, you know,” Peter said. “And that same suit was still in here when you invited me over like a month later. I recognised it. The only thing that could make that kind of dent was Cap’s shield, Mr. Stark. It wasn’t that hard to figure out that more went down between you, and FRIDAY showed me the footage when I asked.”

“FRIDAY remind me to tweak Peter’s clearance settings,” said Mr. Stark, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, Kid, you shouldn’t have seen that. I don’t want your shiny opinion of Cap all tainted by this.”

Peter laughed. It wasn’t a happy sound, even to his own ears. “My opinion of him was already ‘tainted’ when I saw what his shield did to your suit, Mr. Stark. Friends don’t almost kill friends with vibranium shields and leave them to freeze.”

“Still,” said Mr. Stark, “I know you were a big Cap fan, and I didn’t want to ruin it for you.”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter said. “I literally made an iron man helmet and matching glowing gauntlets to wear when I was _nine_. Cap was never really the one I idolized, and that was before I even met you.” He refused to blush about this. He would not.

Mr. Stark turned away to fiddle with something on the workbench. “Thanks, Kid,” he said. “But the earth still needs its defenders, and this is the only place the UN agreed had a chance of containing them. The compound isn’t really set up as a great place to live for a long period of time.”

“Fine,” Peter sighed. “Do I still get lab days if I don’t tell them my identity? I just don’t know if I can trust them with that, especially since I still remember when some of them leaked literally all of SHIELD’s info onto the internet.”

“Of course you still get lab days,” said Mr. Stark, looking almost offended. “We’ll just tell them you’re my intern. Isn’t that what you told your school? I think we still have the papers around somewhere if they ask.”

“Awesome, thanks Mr. Stark!” said Peter. “I really have to go though, or Aunt May’s going to worry.”

Mr. Stark clapped a hand on his shoulder and Peter froze for a second. “See you later, Kid,” said the man, giving him a squeeze before pushing him toward the door. “Say hi to Aunt Hottie for me.”

“I am not doing that,” Peter said as he headed out. Huh. He was still mad about the Avengers, but the shoulder thing… that had been kind of nice.

Peter managed to avoid the Avengers for two weeks before they finally met face-to-face. It wasn’t even hard; Tony wouldn’t give them access to the penthouse or workshop, for obvious reasons, so Peter just swung up there in his suit and then came down to the lab. Mr. Stark had given him the strategy before they arrived, and he even gave Peter a bedroom in the penthouse to store some clothes and stuff in. (Mr. Stark acted like it was no big deal, but the room was full of legos and Star Wars posters, and he was sure it had been decorated just for him. Plus, he was constantly fanboying over the fact that he a _freaking room in Tony Stark’s penthouse!_ )

Unfortunately, Peter managed to get the suit damaged enough while stopping a run-of-the-mill mugging that he couldn’t exactly swing through the streets in it. Happy picked him up after school on Friday, and May even gave him permission to stay over for the weekend while they fixed it! Peter was so excited to be at the tower for two and a half days that he barely even thought about the other Avengers living there.

Happy dropped him off at the company’s main entrance and handed him a personalized badge. “You’ve got all access because we never know where you’re going to swing in,” he said. “Don’t make me regret that.”

“Wow. I totally won’t, thanks so much, Happy! Wow,” said Peter. He reverently took the badge and walked in. The lobby was huge and shining, and Peter couldn’t believe he’d never really checked it out before. He spent a good few minutes poking around before he walked up to the security check and scanned his badge. A little thrill went down his spine as it lit up green and the guard lazily waved him through to the elevator, even though he’d been on it several times before.

A sharply-dressed woman got in the elevator with him, and suddenly Peter didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t ask FRIDAY what floor Mr. Stark was on in front of her because that was definitely information interns did not have access to. So far she had ignored his very obvious duffel bag, probably assuming it carried project materials, but there was no way she could ignore him speaking to Mr. Stark’s personal AI. After hesitating for far too long, Peter just pushed the highest button available and hoped for the best. 

To his relief, the woman got out on one of the R&D floors somewhere around number 46. “FRIDAY?” he said as soon as the doors closed. “I’m looking for Mr. Stark. Can you take me up to whatever floor he’s on?”

“Are you sure, Mr. Parker?” she asked. “You have pressed the button for floor 79, the final SI floor. All higher floors can only be accessed through me.”

“Yeah,” said Peter. “You can ignore that. I just didn’t want to make that lady suspicious, you know?”

“Of course,” she said.

The elevator paused again on floor 81, opening to let _Hawkeye and Scarlet Witch_ on board. Peter Did Not Stare.

“Floor 89,” said Hawkeye, before doing a double take. “Hey, you’re not allowed to be up this high!”

Peter raised his eyebrows. “I have an all-access pass, so…”

“Do you know who you’re talking to, little boy?” said Scarlet Witch. “I don’t think you want to mess with two Avengers, do you?”

Peter was internally freaking out. His intestines may or may not have been playing jump rope, that’s how nervous he was. Still, he did his best to keep his voice cool. “Since you’re living on Mr. Stark's oh-so-gracious hospitality, you probably don’t want to mess with his personal intern either.”

 _”Personal intern?”_ scoffed Hawkeye. “Stark wouldn’t hire a personal intern for a billion dollars. At least make your story somewhat believable. You’re coming with us, we’ll clear this up.”

“No, I--” Peter tried to protest, but the elevator stopped and Hawkeye dragged him out onto the Avengers’ floor. “Let go of me!” He could have broken free, but that would give away the whole Spider-Man thing, which was the point of the intern ruse in the first place.

“FRIDAY, tell Stark to get down here. We have a situation that I think he needs to resolve,” said Scarlet Witch, eyeing Peter suspiciously.

“Boss is on his way,” FRIDAY said a minute later.

On one hand, Peter was glad that Mr. Stark was coming because he would clear everything up and they could get to fixing the suit and planning their weekend. On the other hand, it was pretty embarrassing to have been caught so easily after he’d been avoiding the Avengers for so long. Peter was just glad they didn’t recognize him as Spider-Man from the Germany fight less than two years ago.

After an agonizingly silent wait, the elevator doors opened again to reveal Mr. Stark in his work jeans and two layers of faded t-shirts. “Okay, I’m here, what’s all this about… oh, Kid, there you are.”

Peter grinned. “Sorry I’m late, Mr. Stark. I got a little… held up in the elevator.”

Mr. Stark jerked his head up to glare at Scarlet Witch’s shocked face and Hawkeye’s slack jaw. “Hey, hands off,” he said, making grabby hands. “That one’s mine, you can’t steal him.”

“But… but…” Hawkeye stuttered, not moving, “you hate kids! And you don’t have interns!”

“Yeah, well, things happen, people change. Give me back my kid, we’re having a lab weekend,” said Mr. Stark. When the other two still failed to move, he stepped forward and pulled Peter out of Hawkeye’s grip, then proceeded to drag him towards the elevator again.

“Your kid?” Scarlet Witch said in an abnormally high voice. “How--” but the elevator doors closed before she could finish.

Peter glanced sideways at Mr. Stark and caught his eye as Mr. Stark glanced back at him. His mentor’s mouth slowly cracked into a smile, and then they were both snickering. Something warm and happy filled Peter’s chest. Mr. Stark had just implied… well, Peter wasn’t totally sure exactly what he had implied, but it was definitely a closer relationship than intern and boss, that was for sure.

“I think I broke them,” said Mr. Stark, and Peter actually snorted.

“Boss, Hawkeye is inquiring about how long you have had a son,” FRIDAY said as they stepped into the penthouse. Peter bit his lip.

“When’s your birthday again, Kid?” said Mr. Stark.

“February 10,” he said. “What are you--”

“Tell him it’s been almost 16 and a half years,” Mr. Stark said. “You have all Peter’s info except for the internship stuff under lockdown, right?”

“Of course, Boss,” she said. “I do not believe I am allowed to articulate Hawkeye’s response in the hearing of a minor.”

Mr. Stark guffawed and Peter let another giggle slip loose. “Are you… pretending to be my dad right now? Is that what we’re doing?” he asked.

Mr. Stark paused. “Yeah. I guess that is what I just did, isn’t it. Is that okay? I just thought that clearly they weren’t buying the intern thing, but they won’t go looking further if they think they’ve discovered the big secret already. I’ve mentioned you to them before, so it’s not like this is completely out of the blue.”

“That’s… that’s fine, Mr. Stark,” said Peter, stunned. “Should I… how are we going to sell this?”

The elevator doors opened and they sat on the couch by unspoken agreement.

“You think I know how to be a--?” Mr. Stark cut himself off. “I guess just keep doing what we’re doing? They’ve hardly seen you anyway, so hopefully the rumor just fuels itself if they don’t see you.”

“Okay,” said Peter, ruthlessly squashing the disappointment in his gut. He’d already known that calling Mr. Stark “Dad” was out of the question, but… “What do I do if I run into them again?”

Mr. Stark shrugged. “Improvise? I don’t know, Kid, hasn’t anyone told you I can’t make plans to save my life?”

“I’ll take your word for it,” said Peter drily. “Want to go fix my suit?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Mr. Stark said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thank you so much to everyone who left feedback and kudos on this work! You have inspired me enough that a few more chapters basically are writing themselves, so give yourselves a pat on the back. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and be aware that the sleepiness will come back soon :)


	3. Chapter 3

Tony was minding his own business puttering around in the lab when Peter decided to ambush him late on Saturday night. Granted, they both knew that he wasn’t actually getting anything done, and Peter had promised up, down, and sideways that his homework was finished, but still.

“Let’s watch a movie,” rang through the lab so abruptly that Tony fumbled his coffee. He caught it with minimal spillage and spun his chair in time to see Peter striding into his lab as if he owned the place.

“Don’t scare me like that, Kid,” Tony said. “I already have heart problems.”

“I’m thinking The Incredibles 2,” continued Peter. Tony felt ignored, ignored and offended, and exaggerated his face to show such. His kid giggled, but kept talking. “I haven’t seen it since it was out in theaters, and I want to find the little easter eggs that Ned was telling me about.”

Tony shrugged and stood, letting his back pop a couple of times. He was getting too old for this. “Whatever you say, Kid, it’s your weekend. Are you sure you want to start something at…” he checked the time, “11:30?”

“Sure,” said Peter. “I do it with Ned all the time, don’t worry.” 

Well, it wasn’t like Tony ever seemed to sleep anyway. Might as well stay up with his kid instead of sitting in the workshop getting nothing done. “Fine with me,” he said. “What’s The Incredibles?”

Peter jerked to a stop so fast Tony almost bumped into him. He looked horrified, as if Tony had just confessed to killing kittens in his spare time. “You haven’t seen The Incredibles?” he shrieked. “That’s it, you’ve lived a deprived life and you’re coming with me right now.”

Tony just laughed as the kid grabbed his hand and started tugging. “Whatever you say, Pete. Where are we going?”

“We’re finding your biggest TV so that you can get the full experience,” Peter said, dragging him into the elevator. “FRIDAY, take us to the biggest screen available for movie-watching and get The Incredibles ready for us!”

“Floor 91,” said FRIDAY. Peter grinned and bounced up and down on his toes the whole way down while Tony just rolled his eyes fondly. This kid was making him go soft enough to watch stupid animated movies and he didn’t even care, that’s how far gone he was.

_He said he saw you as a dad…_ whispered Tony’s traitorous brain. _You know how you feel; you could say something--_

_No_ , Tony cut himself off, glancing at the innocent kid next to him. _I’m not weighing him down with my crap. Besides, he was high on pain meds and doesn’t remember a thing. It didn’t mean anything._

FRIDAY brought the elevator to a halt before Tony could argue with himself further, and Peter grabbed him again with reckless abandon. People didn’t usually just touch him like that, but Peter barely had a personal space bubble, and Tony found himself minding that fact less that he would have thought.

“Okay, FRI, where are we going?” said Peter as he pulled Tony out of the elevator.

“Third door on the right, Peter,” she said. 

“Peter?” the kid repeated, turning to Tony. “I thought she called me ‘Mr. Parker’?”

Tony shrugged. He’d actually forgotten that he’d done this the night before. “I can change it back if you want, but since we’re doing the whole father-son ruse I thought it might seem suspicious.” 

_Ruse,_ he thought to himself. _If only things were that simple._

“Okay,” said Peter, seemingly unbothered. He trotted down to where FRIDAY had indicated, leading Tony as if he was a small child instead of his fully-grown ~~father figure~~ mentor.

Peter stopped short when he opened the door. His mouth fell open and he turned to Tony with such a delighted face that he regretted not showing this to the kid earlier. Peter’s smile always made him smile back.

“Mr. Stark,” he said, “you have a movie theater screen in you house!”

“I’m aware,” said Tony, looking around. He hadn’t used this room since the Avengers-- Well, it had been a while. The biggest couch in the middle of the room was calling his name, so he wandered over to grab his favorite blankets from the closet and dumped them on it. “You coming, Kid?” 

His words jerked Peter out of his frozen spot in the doorway and the kid whooped, sprinting around and jumping directly on top of Tony’s blanket pile.

“Hey, those are mine,” he said, trying to shove Peter off in mock-annoyance. He wasn’t totally sure what the protocol was for casually touching and/or play-fighting with your Spider-Child, but at least he knew he couldn’t very well hurt him without super strength.

Peter rolled off the pile of blankets laughing and nearly landed in Tony’s lap, which, okay, this was fine, he could handle this. “Compromise,” said Peter. “We’ll share.” Then he glanced sideways at Tony and his smile faded. “I mean, we don’t have to--”

_Nope,_ thought Tony, _we are not losing that smile yet._ “Just play the movie, FRI,” he said, reaching across Peter to throw the blankets over both of them. Peter’s smile returned full force and he sank into the cushions next to Tony with a happy little sigh. They weren’t touching, but it also wouldn’t be difficult to accidentally brush Peter’s side or throw an arm over his shoulders if he wanted to.

Tony kept half an eye on the movie, because Peter was sure to ask him about it when they were done, and half an eye on his kid, who was honestly just as entertaining. He got so into it, gasping and laughing and holding his breath, and it made the movie itself much more fun to sit through. 

Tony’s back started to twinge somewhere around the time that Helen and the kids were sitting around a campfire in a cave. He’d been sitting down in the lab already for a good portion of the day, and his body was not happy with him. He subtly shifted his weight, trying to get into a more comfortable position without disturbing Peter, but there really was no good way to sit here. The corner of the couch was several feet away on one side, and his kid inches away on the other. Eventually, Tony just slid down and kicked his feet up on a nearby footstool. His head was lower down than Peter’s, now, which was pretty weird, but the new position put some relief on his back, so Tony couldn’t complain. The kid shot him a somewhat amused glance before turning back to the movie, where Bob and Helen had finally reunited.

Tony never got a lot of sleep. Usually there was too much to do or his brain was moving too fast, and he just couldn’t seem to get more than a handful of hours a night no matter how much he tried. That said, he hardly noticed when the feeling of lethargy gradually crept over him.

His eyes blinked slower and slower, and somehow he began missing bigger chunks of the movie. How had the family escaped Syndrome’s island again? What was that thing they were all throwing around? Tony knew he was drifting, but he felt warm and comfortable, and Peter wouldn’t mind too much, so he couldn’t really bring himself to care.

Something touched his shoulder and a voice was speaking. Was it talking to him? Tony wanted to stay here with Peter. He mumbled as much and leaned away, falling against something warm and solid. An arm tentatively settled over his shoulders, and Tony hummed in contentment and went back to sleep.  
.  
.  
.  
Peter could hardly believe that Mr. Stark had actually agreed to watch a movie with him, not to mention his freaking awesome home theater with some of the softest blankets Peter had ever had the pleasure of sitting under. He had somehow managed to essentially play with Mr. Stark, share his ultra-amazing blankets, and sit right next to him on the couch before the movie even started! It was a good day.

Peter loved The Incredibles. He got so caught up in the movie he almost forgot about Mr. Stark sitting next to him, except that the man began shifting around about half way through. Peter glanced at him as he re-adjusted until he seemed content laying almost all the way back with his feet propped up.

It wasn’t until the movie was over that Peter noticed Mr. Stark was asleep. It was pretty strange to see him like this, especially because Peter knew for a fact that he had trouble sleeping. However, it was almost 1:30 in the morning, so it wasn’t like this was a weird time to have fallen asleep. Should he wake him up or leave him be?

“Uh, Mr. Stark?” Peter said. No answer. “Mr. Stark?” he tried again, a little louder. Still no response. Peter debated with himself for a minute, but Mr. Stark’s position looked like it was going to hurt either his neck or his back by morning, so he figured waking him up was the best bet. He hesitantly reached out and put an arm over him, shaking his opposite shoulder. “Wake up, Mr. Stark,” he said.

The man finally shifted a little, but his eyes didn’t open. “Watchin’ movies with my son, go ‘way,” he said. 

Peter Did Not Move. “You… what?” he whispered, tired eyes opening as far as they could go. But Mr. Stark didn’t speak again. Instead he leaned away from Peter’s hand and fell against his side, letting out a little snore. Peter’s arm naturally fell over his shoulders, lightly keeping the man in place while Peter struggled to breathe normally again. His brain didn’t seem to be working quite right. Mr. Stark was laying on him and he didn’t know what to do and he called him his son and what was his life? What was a kid supposed to do when his ~~dad~~ mentor fell asleep on him instead of the other way around?

As Peter slowly finished absorbing the situation, he noticed that Mr. Stark was still laying in a weird half-hunched position, with his upper body all scrunched up against Peter’s side and his neck at a weird angle, while his legs remained stretched out on the footstool. He quickly planned a new course of action. 

First, Peter squeezed Mr. Stark a little tighter around the shoulders and scooched to the side, letting his upper half stretch out so that his body made more of an L-shape than a weird J. Next, he grabbed a nearby pillow and squeezed out from under Mr. Stark’s head, sliding the pillow in where he’d been. He watched his face carefully, but Mr. Stark barely stirred. Good. Peter tiptoed around and gently grabbed Mr. Stark’s ankles, transferring his legs to the couch as well so that he was laying in a more normal position on his back. Finally, Peter grabbed the thoroughly messed-up blankets and re-spread them over his mentor. Then he lingered a little, just watching Mr. Stark for a minute or two, which was objectively a really creepy thing to do. 

But still… _his son._ Peter ghosted a hand over Mr. Stark’s cheek before he realized what he was doing and snatched it back. _What was that, Parker?_ He stared at Mr. Stark for a second more, as if the man had made him do that, before quickly standing and leaving the room. He’d never touched Mr. Stark’s face before while he was awake because that would be weird, and why would he do that anyway? At least Mr. Stark would never find out about it, so Peter didn’t have to be embarrassed. He tried to calm himself down on the elevator ride back up to the penthouse, and mostly succeeded by the time he got into bed. 

“FRIDAY?” he said, something occurring to him just before he turned out the light. 

“Yes, Peter?” 

“Don’t let any of the Avengers in that room until Mr. Stark is gone, okay?” said Peter. He wasn’t sure how much he was allowed to order FRIDAY around, but this seemed like a good time to try it. “I don’t know if they’re allowed in there, but he wouldn’t want to see them.” 

“Of course, Peter,” she said. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” 

He hesitated for a long second before he replied. “Could you, um… did you record what we were saying after the movie?” 

“Yes, Peter,” she said. 

He took a deep breath. “Can you play back a little bit? Where I was trying to wake him up and…” 

“Of course, Peter,” FRIDAY said after he trailed off. “Playing now.” 

His own painfully awkward voice played over the speaker first, and Peter cringed at himself shyly telling Mr. Stark to wake up. But then: “Watchin’ movies with my son, go ‘way,” said Mr. Stark’s unmistakable, sleepy voice. 

_My son._

_That’s me,_ thought Peter, a smile stretching across his face. _He called me his son._

When Peter fell asleep he was still smiling. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to everyone who has left kudos and comments! I love getting feedback from all of you <3  
> (The Avengers were actually going to barge in on this one, but then this happened instead... oh well. Tony Stark does what he wants.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You asked for a fluffy conversation, and I give you... the fluffiest fluff of a conversation that I know how to write (in which both parties are actually fully awake).

Tony woke up in the movie room, which was not a place he had fallen asleep in in months. It only took him a second to remember why he was down there, but Peter was nowhere to be seen. The kid must have gone to bed at some point.

That was when something else occurred to him, and he tried not to blush. He was pretty sure he’d fallen asleep all scrunched up and half uncovered by a blanket, but now he had clearly been shifted around and covered up properly. There was only one person around who might have done that, and Tony valiantly decided not to think about or mention this discovery around Peter at any point. Being tucked in by a sixteen-year-old, no matter how much he loved him, was not something that should happen to Tony Stark.

Still, at least he hadn’t woken up with a sore back and a crick in his neck. Tony rolled over stretched before stumbling his way to the door. He stuck his head out cautiously, glancing around. The Avengers were allowed on this floor, which probably should have kept him and Peter off of it, but the kid was so excited that Tony hadn’t been able to refuse.

Luckily, the path to the elevator was empty. “Penthouse, FRIDAY,” he said though a yawn. “What time is it?”

“The time is 7:24 AM, Boss,” she said. “You have been asleep for approximately six hours.”

Tony grinned, surprised. That was the longest he’d slept at a time in weeks.

“When Peter wakes up, tell him I’m in the lab and he’s free to join me,” he said.

“Yes, Boss.”

Peter didn’t actually arrive in the lab until a couple hours later. He must have gotten dressed without really paying attention, too, because his t-shirt read ' **My hero is the man in the can** ' with a little cartoon of the Tony’s suit at the bottom. He turned away to hide a smile that was far too sincere.

“Have you eaten?” he asked.

“Uh…” Peter’s stomach growled. He turned red and Tony laughed.

“C’mon,” he said, leading Peter back out of the lab, “let’s go find something to quiet that spider stomach of yours.”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter groaned, still blushing.

“No buts,” said Tony. He merrilly dumped Peter into a chair in the kitchen and walked around to the cupboards. “We have cereal, eggs, toast, pancakes that I would absolutely burn, and the option to order in from pretty much anywhere. What’re you feeling like, Pete?”

The kid thought about it for a while. “Do you have Captain Crunch?” he said.

Tony opened a cabinet. “Well there’s a box of it in here. Who knows how old it is, but have at it if you want. There’s milk in the fridge.”

“Awesome!” said Peter with far too much enthusiasm. He hopped up to grab the milk and a bowl and Tony handed him the box. “Thanks, Dad.”

Time stopped.

The two of them stared at each other. 

Peter set the cereal box down and the noise snapped Tony out of it. He cleared his throat. “I, uh… do you want to take this to the couch? It seems like a couch type of thing.”

“Okay,” whispered Peter. He backed away toward the living room, refusing to meet Tony’s eyes.

They sat down with a cushion of space between them, and then there was a long silence where they both fidgeted and refused to really look at each other. Tony knew he was the responsible adult in this scenario, and that he should really be the one starting this off, but emotions were hard and he couldn’t just do it. What did he say? He’d been thinking about it on and off for weeks, but now every scenario he’d planned just seemed stupid.

“I’m sorry,” said Peter, just as Tony opened his mouth. “I didn’t mean to make it weird or anything, it just sort of slipped out. You’re the only adult I have who really understands what I’m going through with the superhero thing, you know? May tries, and she’s great and I love her to death, but she just doesn’t understand why I want to do this, and I feel like you do. And then you started having me over and being so freaking nice to me and letting me hang out in your lab and, and… and this is partly your fault too because you called me your son and I just couldn’t stop thinking that maybe--”

“Wait,” said Tony, looking up. “I… Sorry, I did what?”

Peter met his eyes. “You called me your son. Last night. FRIDAY, would you play that recording?”

“Of course, Peter,” she said. 

Tony was stunned. He sat frozen as FRIDAY played a recording of something the he had no recollection of from the night before. Peter was clearly trying to wake him up, but Tony wasn’t having it. _“Watchin’ movies with my son,”_ said his voice, clear as could be.

“I…” what was he supposed to do with this? “I don’t remember that.”

Peter’s mouth turned up into the smallest of smiles. “Yeah, I kind of figured.”

“Listen,” said Tony, looking away and trying to put his mortified thoughts in order. “I’ve never liked kids, okay? I don’t know what to do with them or how to talk to them or what they like or anything. And then you showed up and it was so much easier and so much harder than I thought at the same time and I just… I… I…” _I love you._ But he couldn’t say it, so he just trailed off before taking another deep breath. “This is totally your fault, actually, because you called me your dad in the medbay weeks ago and got the idea stuck in my head, you little beast.”

He let a smile show on his face so that Peter knew he was kidding and glanced up. Peter seemed utterly flabbergasted, opening and closing his mouth several times before he got any sound out. “I what?” he squeaked.

“FRIDAY, be a dear and pull up the medbay audio with me and Peter from a few weeks ago, would you?” said Tony, watching his kid carefully.

“Roger that, Boss,” she said, before Tony’s voice filled the speakers.

_“Mr. Stark will?”_

 _“He’s m’favorite supe’hero,”_ said Peter’s groggy voice. _Saved me fr’m a ferry ‘n a robo’, ‘n he’s just the… the goodest dad-guy pers’n, y’know?”_

Peter groaned, burying his face in his hands. Tony just laughed at him. “There’s more.”

 _“Dad-guy peron?”_ said Tony’s voice, and oh, he had not hidden his surprise well at all. He could hear the love in his voice through the shock, and he wasn’t sure whether he wanted Peter to notice that or not.

 _“Mm hmm,”_ Peter’s voice hummed. _“Wish ‘e was mine but ’m jus’ some kid fr’m th’ street, so…”_

The little parts of Peter’s face that Tony could still see were beet red. 

_“You wish he was your… your dad?”_ Tony winced. His voice was horribly unsteady, and he sounded far more vulnerable than he had thought. There was no way Peter wasn’t hearing how much it meant to Tony right then, and he considered stopping the recording. But Peter deserved to hear this. 

Recorded Peter hummed in agreement and the kid on the couch looked up at him in confusion and embarrassment. Tony wasn’t sure what kind of expression was on his face, but it was probably far too sappy. He wasn’t sure how to change that, so he cleared his throat and looked away. 

“FRIDAY, you can skip a little,” he said.

 _“Nah, I love’m. Don’ wan’ ‘im t’run ‘way fr’m me.”_ Peter’s voice, vulnerable and sleepy, hit Tony like a gutpunch. It didn’t even matter that he’d heard this before in person, his breath still hitched and his mouth stretched wide in a smile before he could stop it. Peter was staring at him, he could tell, but Tony stayed resolutely facing away from him.

_“You smell good, like Miss’r Dad.”_

_“That could be because I am him.”_

There was a long pause, and Peter was shifting around. Tony didn’t move. He shouldn’t have replayed this, it was way too emotionally charged. Did his voice always sound that… that soft when he spoke to Peter?

_“Hey Miss’r… Miss’r…”_

_“You called me Dad.”_

Tony gulped. His recorded voice sounded both awed and wrecked, and even if he hadn’t been able to tell Peter that he loved him in so many words, this recording was clearly doing it for him. He hadn’t felt this openly transparent in years.

_“‘Kay, Dad. I’m keepin’ this, ‘kay?”_

_“Go to sleep Peter.”_

Finally, mercifully, the recording cut off and they were left in silence. Tony kept his eyes turned resolutely the other way, but Peter walked around him and knelt right in his line of sight anyway. His face was red, but his eyes were steady.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he said.

“Kid,” said Tony, “even drugged-up you knows that I suck at emotions, okay? I didn’t… I couldn’t… you didn’t remember it, and I wasn’t sure…”

Peter reached out, but then pulled his hand back shyly, as if he wasn’t sure he had permission to touch. “I love you too, Mr. Stark,” he said.

Tony felt his mouth fall open and he stared at Peter, who was now looking away and fidgeting with his hands. He got to his feet and then pulled his kid up with him before wrapping him in a tight hug.

“I… I…” he said. _I love you, too._ It wouldn’t come out.

“It’s okay, Mr. Stark,” said Peter, slowly returning the hug. Tony could hear his smile. “I got the message.”

Tony laughed and let him go. “All right kid, any more emotions today and I think I’ll break out in hives. You still need breakfast, yeah? I’ll eat something with you, c’mon.”

“Whatever you say, Dad.”

Tony almost ran into the wall.

It was a good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't mind me just casually capitalizing on my previously written content...


	5. Chapter 5

Peter left the tower on Sunday night, and honestly, his new favorite thing might have been being able to say “Bye, Dad” to Tony Stark while the man ruffled his hair and pushed him into the elevator.

Happy took one look at his face when he got in the car and rolled the divider up. “I’m not in the mood to hear you gush about my boss, Kid,” he said. After it was in place, Peter caught him adding that, “I already heard him gush about you for far too long.”

Super hearing was the best. 

After texting Ned that they were absolutely required to meet up after decathlon practice on Monday, Peter busied himself with games on his phone until they reached his apartment. He waved to Happy and climbed the stairs two at a time all the way up to his floor, where he burst into the apartment. “May, I’m home!” he called.

She came out of the TV room, laughing before she even saw him. “Wow, Peter, where has all this exuberance come from?”

Peter felt his facing heating up a little. “Just a, uh, a really good weekend, May,” he said. What if she reacted badly to the news? Peter bit his lip, but he couldn’t leave her hanging. He was a terrible liar, plus he would absolutely burst if he couldn’t gush with someone as soon as possible.

May raised an eyebrow. “I see. Come on, tell me all about it.” She hustled him over to the couch to sit beside her, switching the TV off.

“Okay, so I was at the tower, right? And, well, the first thing that happened was I ran into Hawkeye and Scarlet Witch, which, awesome! But also, they were kind of rude, and they super did not believe that I was Mr. Stark’s intern…” Peter told her everything, occasionally standing up or bouncing around on the couch. He couldn’t help it! At some point he flipped up and paced back and forth on the ceiling, nearly giving May a heart attack in the process, but she only scolded him a little before she let him keep going.

“And he let me call him Dad like all day, but whenever I did it he kept dropping things or, like, tripping or whatever. It was hilarious. But then he called me Son while I was holding a glass of water and I literally almost let it break all over the floor, I was so surprised. So… yeah.”

Peter stood in front of May, looking down at his hands. There was a thread hanging from the hem of his t-shirt.

“Oh, Peter,” she said. “It sounds like this will be a great thing for the two of you.”

He glanced up, and her eyes were full of tears. “Is it okay?” he said. “I still love you the most, you know, and I’ll never forget Ben. I’m not trying to replace him or... or my real dad. It’s just that Ben never tried to be anything but my uncle-slash-brother figure guy, and you’re obviously the one who took over for Mom and you never tried to have me call you that or whatever, and now…”

“You just want some support, and he’s giving it to you,” she said, drawing him in for a hug. “It’s all right, Peter. We both know that Ben would have wanted you to have this, as long as you’re sure. And you are never leaving me for that big, fancy tower, you hear? I was your family first.”

Peter laughed. “I couldn’t do that, May, don’t worry. Mr. Stark… he really cares, and this will be good for him too. I think he only pulls himself together when he has someone else to look after.”

May gave him a determined nod and sent him off to bed because “Even Spider-Man has a curfew, Peter.” 

The rest of the week went by fairly normally. He had a great fanboy freakout with Ned over the whole situation after practice on Monday, he ate his dinners with May, and he patrolled after he finished his homework. He also changed Mr. Stark’s name in his phone from _Literal Iron Man_ to _Basically My Dad_. Even though no one else would really see it, it put Peter in a good mood whenever he opened his contacts.

On Thursday, Peter’s phone rang right at the end of decathlon. He ducked out as fast as he could and, looking at the caller, hid in an empty classroom before he answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Kid,” said Mr. Stark. Something crunched in the background. “Listen, any chance you could swing down towards the tower? There’s some weird tentacle things attacking, and none of our weapons are really penetrating. I thought you might like to help web them up so we can do something with them.”

The actual Avengers needed Spider-Man’s help? Peter thought he might pull a muscle he was smiling so wide. “Yeah, totally! Decathlon just finished, so I’ll be over as soon as I can! Anything else I should know?”

“That’s about it, to be honest,” said Mr. Stark. “Just get your butt over here before Cap tries to punch one of them in the face again and gets eaten.”

“On it,” said Peter. He sprinted out the back door and changed in the abandoned alleyway near the back of the school. It was a good thing the usual drug dealers weren’t around because he did not have time to deal with that right now.

It was a beautiful day outside, and Peter almost wished that nothing was happening so that he could leisurely enjoy it. However, it wasn’t long before his sensitive ears picked up the sound of a squad of truck-sized tentacle monsters running amok.

“Karen, can you tap me into their comms?” he said. “I want to know what’s happening.”

“I can do that, Peter. Connecting,” she said. Suddenly he was bombarded with actual-pants Captain America yelling through the line.

“We’re going to have to re-group! If we can’t pierce the skin, then containment is the priority. Stark, how close is your guy?”

“I’m swinging in right now, Captain,” he called gleefully. He was talking to Captain America! This was the best timeline. “What are we looking at, here?”

“Spider-Man,” said Captain America. (Captain America knew who he was!) “We need you to web these things up with as little damage to public property as you can. We’ve been trying to subdue them, but their skin is thick enough that most of our attacks are useless.”

“Copy that,” said Peter. “I’m coming in hot.”

Luckily, the tentacle monsters were tough, but not strong enough to break through a copious amount of Peter’s webbing. They developed a system pretty quickly. Scarlet Witch held them steady with her magic while Peter worked on securing the things to the nearest clear stretch of street. Then those with extra strength like Mr. Stark and Captain America helped transport them to the government trucks that were bringing them… somewhere. Peter wondered if the government had a classified zoo full of all the alien creatures the Avengers had taken down over the years. Probably.

“Thanks for your help, Spider-Man,” said Black Widow. (Black Widow! He knew they’d been awful to Mr. Stark, but he was a fanboy at heart and it was hard to turn off.)

“No problemo,” he said, watching Captain America give a monster one last shove into a truck. Mr. Stark landed next to them.

“Hey, Kid,” he said. “Does your Aunt know where you are right now?”

Peter froze. “Oh, crud, I never called her,” he said. He’d left his phone in his backpack at school. “She’s going to be so mad, she’s never going to let me out of her sight again!”

“Woah, Kid, deep breaths,” said Mr. Stark, stepping out of his suit and putting a hand on his shoulder. “Karen can call her. Tell her you’re fine, I was watching you, and if she doesn’t have anything planned you can stay and have dinner at the tower.”

Peter nodded. “Karen, please call May.” He glanced around and, noticing that the rest of the Avengers were gathering closer curiously, took a few steps back and spoke quietly.

“Hey, May, it’s me. Yes, I’m fine. I’m with the Avengers, and Mr. Stark has been here the whole time, so you can call him if you don’t believe me. I know. I’m sorry. Do you have any ideas for dinner? Otherwise he invited me over to eat at the tower. Okay, sounds good. See you, May, I love you! Bye.”

He bounced back over to the circle of Avengers, all of whom were making a show of not studying him, and grabbed Mr. Stark by the elbow to turn him away from them.

“Looks like I’m eating at the tower, Old Man, so I hope you have something edible in there.”

“As if,” said Mr. Stark. “Nah, we’ll order pizza or something. Just tell me before you leave so that I don’t have any nervous breakdowns like May probably does every single day ever.”

“She does not,” Peter said, rolling his eyes. “And I’m not that bad, you’re just the worst helicopter parent.”

Mr. Stark paused. “Yeah, I’ll own that. I do have a literal helicopter, you know.”

Peter groaned.

“Wait, wait, wait, hold the phone,” said Hawkeye, stepping in. “Stark, are you letting your son be a superhero? He didn’t look old enough to shave!” Peter whirled around to find Black Widow, Hawkeye, Scarlet Witch, Captain America, and Falcon all gathered around and staring at him.

“Um… what?” he squeaked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Barton,” said Mr. Stark coolly. “I don’t know what makes you think I have a son, but do you honestly think that shrimpy intern you met in the elevator could catch a car without a scratch?”

Scarlet Witch raised an eyebrow. “This Spider-Man does seem to be about the same size as that child, yes.”

“And don’t try to tell us you weren’t parenting him just now,” said Falcon. “He just called you a helicopter parent and you _agreed.”_

“We don’t allow child soldiers, Tony, no matter how strong they are,” said Captain America.

“Well I’m sorry for trying to keep this stupid kid from killing himself accidentally,” Mr. Stark said. “He was doing this with or without me. That doesn’t prove anything.”

Peter snickered. He’d honestly always suspected that they’d figure it out. This was a little faster than he’d wanted, but he knew it would make things easier if he just told them the truth. “I think they caught us fair and square,” he said. “Want to go back to the tower and have some pizza and introductions?”

“You sure, Kid?” said Tony quietly. “I can deny things until kingdom come and pay lawyers to prove it, too.”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, they would’ve caught on eventually. Don’t worry, you’ll still be my favorite Avenger.”

“As if I would have let you change your mind,” Mr. Stark scoffed. But his shoulders loosened a little and he turned back to face the others. “See you there,” he said before taking off. Peter swung after him the whole way.  
.  
.  
.  
When Peter stepped into the the Avengers’ equivalent to a living room, he nearly had a heart attack. It may have had something to do with a bunch of his childhood heroes staring at him as if he were an alien that they weren’t sure was friendly. Mr. Stark was there too, shooting Peter a reassuring smile and gesturing to the space beside him. Peter hurried over and plopped down there. Mr. Stark’s arm pressed against his in silent support.

For some reason, the group seemed almost as confused by his friendliness with Tony as they were by his general existence. Or maybe it was Tony’s fondness for him that was throwing them.

“So, um…” he said, when it became obvious that no one really knew what to do, “hi. I’m Peter.”

“We told you!” Hawkeye burst out, pointing at the others. “Stark all but told us this was his kid the other day, and you were all, ‘No, Clint, Stark hates kids,’ or, ‘No, Wanda, we did a background check.’ But here he is!”

“Sorry,” said Captain America. “But you have to admit that it sounded like another one of your pranks, and we all know Wanda would have gone along with it.”

Scarlet Witch nodded and Hawkeye slumped. Peter wondered if they had played pranks together before, and whether they had worked.

“All I could find on Peter was what Stark let me find,” said Black Widow indifferently. She turned her gaze to him, and Peter resisted the urge to hide behind Mr. Stark. “How much of that is true? You’re clearly not a normal intern, if you are one at all.”

Suddenly every eye was on Peter again. He tensed. “Um… I help out in the workshop on Wednesdays and sometimes the weekends, and if my suit has any problems he helps me fix those, too.” He really had no idea what to call Mr. Stark now that the others knew the big secret, so he’d very carefully called him nothing so far. He hoped no one had noticed.

“So you don’t live in the tower?” Captain America said, brows furrowing. “How long have you and Tony known about each other?”

“Uh…” Peter looked over at Mr. Stark. “Around a year, I think?”

 ~~His dad~~ Mr. Stark nodded. “Yeah, thirteen months, I would say.”

“What?” spluttered Hawkeye. “You’ve known your son for over a year and you didn’t think to tell us that he’d be around?”

Peter and Mr. Stark stared at him for a minute before turning to each other, ignoring the weird looks they were getting. An evil grin was spreading across Mr. Stark’s face, and while Peter didn’t know how long they could pull it off, it would definitely be funny while it lasted. They were going to drive the Avengers nuts.

“What makes you think he’s my dad?” said Peter.

“Are you kidding?” Hawkeye said. “I asked how long he’d had a son and he actually said sixteen years. I don’t need any more proof than that!”

Tony winked at Peter. “Interesting theory.”

“Bold of him to assume that anything you say is true,” Peter agreed sagely. 

“So you are not related, then?” said Scarlet Witch. She kept glancing between them, as if looking for some almighty sign that would show her the truth.

Peter stroked his chin and tried to put on a thinking face, turning to Mr. Stark. “I mean, you are pretty old, so…”

“That’s it, you’re grounded,” said Mr. Stark, poking Peter’s chest. His eyes were sparkling, though, and Peter could tell he was trying not to laugh. “My sass is the only sass allowed in this house.”

“But Daaaad,” Peter whined.

“No buts” said Mr. Stark. “You’re coming with me.”

Mr. Stark pulled Peter to his feet and steered him around to the elevator. “Bye, guys,” Peter said, choking back his own laughs. He glanced back to see Captain America shrugging at Hawkeye and Scarlet Witch in apparent befuddlement. The Black Widow continued to study Peter and his dad, and he had the uncomfortable feeling that she knew exactly what they were doing.

They lost it as soon as the elevator closed. Peter’s giggles and Mr. Stark’s roaring laughter were so loud that he hoped none of the remaining Avengers could hear it through the doors. “How long do you think we can keep them guessing?” Peter managed to say between his laughs.

“I think Nat’s on to us,” said Mr. Stark. “The rest might take weeks to figure us out.”

Peter dissolved into laughter again, and his stomach ached by the time they stepped into the penthouse. “That. That right there is why I love you,” he said, before he had a chance to think about it. It was something he would have said casually to May or Ned anytime.

Mr. Stark’s snickers cut off, and he turned to Peter, eyes wide. Peter took a minute to mentally slap himself. Why had he said that? Mr. Stark hated getting emotional, and everyone knew it. Heck, he was lucky they’d made it through playing those recordings last week, not to mention all the stuff they said after. Peter got the feeling that once Mr. Stark knew they were good he never wanted to bring it up again. “Sorry,” he muttered, looking away.

“No, don’t,” said Mr. Stark.

“Huh?” said Peter. He looked up, and Mr. Stark’s eyes locked onto his own.

“Don’t be sorry,” Mr. Stark clarified. “Don’t--Don’t stop. I like, I mean, you can… um… I--I care about you, too, Pete. A lot. It’s just hard to… you know.” he trailed off helplessly. 

Peter felt a smile start to grow on his face. “I think I’m going to start springing this on you at random times,” he said. Mr. Stark should not be taken aback by people caring about him.

“Do that and you really are grounded,” Mr. Stark grumbled, but there was no bite in his words.

“Nah,” Peter said breezily. “You love me, too.” He didn’t let himself look at his ~~dad~~ mentor as he said it. Silence filled the room, but it wasn’t awkward. Peter started poking around for a going-home snack before he headed out to retrieve his backpack and do his homework.

Mr. Stark tossed him an orange from behind and Peter caught it without a glance. He only turned around when the man put a heavy hand on his shoulder. “You’re right, Kid,” he said. “I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've made it to the end! Thanks reading and I hope you enjoyed all the fluff. If anyone has prompt suggestions you can post them here or find me on tumblr @loves-frogs. :)


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